Three New Good TV Shows Maybe

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As a hopeful writer-producer I peddle ideas for new TV shows. Unfortunately NBC has shown no interest in taking up my creations thus far. So I plan to attract admirers, via this fabulous website, who will send NBC letters of demand until said conglomerate picks up at least one of following three original TV ideas.

Downtown Abyss

Set in a dystopian London during the Titanic-decade, when grandiose aristocrats were the faces of English bureaucracy, “Downtown Abyss” tells the story of 70-year-old Queen Violet (or “Lady Harpy” to the impoverished commoners), as she rules this hard-to-please and non-cooperative, democratic kingdom. Drama arises every Sunday, when parliamentarians hold court to select the human sacrifices that will be dropped into the sacred Abyss (or the “London Eye” as it is called locally), centred at the physical and spiritual heart of this capital city. Sometimes it’s a load of criminals or innocent babies, though usually it’s a gaggle of priests that is preferred; a cleaner offering in the eyes of the Gods. When Parliament becomes indecisive, Queen Violet has the last say on who will be this week’s martyrs. Upstairs (land) downstairs (abyss) drama aside, Queen Violet also faces challenging foreign affairs. The Parisians reportedly traffic English-bred and attested virgins for their own nation’s version of ritual slaughter by the Guillotine, leading to fiery tension between the two sovereignties. Her royal highness must patch up relations with surgical precision or risk going to war. At the same time she must protect the angelic virgins from being abducted for said sacrilege and instead be saved for the one true holy, the Abyss.

Pastor Chef and Bad Men

Forget foamed durian and jalapeño macarons; all of the foods cooked up in this foodie competition must be dishes that were prominent on the menus of the 1960s, i.e. the salad bar era. In the name of authenticity, the kitchen’s technology and the people’s attire must also follow the customs of that time. Since those were the days of sexism however, (“make me a sandwich, woman”), I have decided to turn the tables and put men into kitchens; specifically pastors, who must concoct flavoured divinities. Each episode showcases a star ingredient; the first element in the series will be Pasta – in recognition of the fact that pastor and pasta sound similar. The preparation time that the Pastor Chefs receive will be approximately 1 hour ± 30 minutes, depending on the level of hungriness expressed by the judging panel; comprised of three inmates (Bad Men) from the local Correctional Facility. After sifting through hundreds of applicants and trimming the field down to a handful of challengers, the winner will be appointed Private Chef to The Pope. To avoid an all-male cast however, the red-siren actress from “Mad Men” Christina Hendricks will be the show’s host; she has said “You’re fired” on at least one occasion. And proudly sponsoring this show will be drink mix, Tang.

Dirty Rocks

Funny lady Tina Fey or Liz Lemon from “30 Rock” plays Geologist Jizz Lime in this modern-day, dirt-people comedy. Jizz works for New Bricks & Cement (NBC, no relation) a mining corporation with headquarters in Oklahoma. Destiny calls when she comes across a stone(d) professional who convinces her that a precious rock, coincidentally named Lime-stone, lies deep in New Jersey. Engulfed in weed smoke and propelled by the euphoria that a stone may be named after her, she seduces her boss, Alexis Bolding, with the prospect of wealth, into green-lighting an expedition to explore this Emerald city, which she later finds out is more enamel than gemstone. With her team of dumb as a rock colleagues, she scavenges through this wasteland, literally looking under every rock and even drilling holes in people’s private dining rooms. In the span of the series, the unwashed cohorts promise to generate stacks of giggles and grunts of disgust from viewers at home. Without a doubt, quirky Jizz will stimulate ejaculations of laughter from critics, solidifying the show’s reputation as the comedy of the century.

Reality confirms that your undoubted, but unstated, admiration for these quality TV plots will not seal studio deals on its own. So I beg you, most generous reader of all the generous readers in this world, if not for my sake then for the sake of one less Kardashian spinoff, to put your compliments in a letter and mail those sweet words to NBC; a broadcaster so pompous a peacock is its symbol. Let’s make some real art!